


We'll be Safe and Sound

by F0rg0tten_Playh0use



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Not Canon Compliant, Sadstuck, The Author Regrets Nothing, child prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F0rg0tten_Playh0use/pseuds/F0rg0tten_Playh0use
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name, Aradia Megido. Do you live a happy life? No. But you have your neighbor. He's always there for you, and he goes through a lot of the same stuff. Your mom isn't very nice, but you're okay with that. You're okay with everything, even having to work, just like your mom and big sister do.<br/>----------------<br/>Aradia and Karkat are both abused by their respective parents. They're neighbors. I was originally gonna make this a one shot but not anymore. Aradia's mom has forced Damara into prostitution at a young age, and now Aradia as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll be Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll add ships or not. I have no clue why i wrote this but IDGAF, if you want to see something, you have anything to tell me blah blah, say so.  
> Sorry it's short though... Also, used google translate so don't yell at me that I screwed up, I admit that I do not know Chinese.  
> EDIT: Changed it from Chinese to Japanese

Your name is Aradia. You’re in your backyard, with the patches of dead grass and dirt. You can hear yelling coming from the house next to yours, you usually can. The houses in this neighborhood have thin walls as it is, and they’re so close together you can always hear your neighbors. Clutching the ropes of your makeshift tree swing you look over to that house. The louder the screaming got the more your heart sank. You heard something hit the wall.

You knew exactly what that something was, but you didn't want to say. You just hope he’s okay.

Damara is now standing with her arms crossed over her chest frowning at you. You can hardly see her gorgeous face through all the makeup, and there’s that stuff on her skirt again. It looks as though she had gotten home not so long ago. She usually changes immediately.

“母はあなたを呼び出しています。”

You take a moment to translate it in your head.Mother is calling for you.

Your Japanese is horrible, your aunt had taught Damara long before you were born, and she’s not around anymore.

“Can you speak to me in English, please?”

You stare at the ground, hands clutching your swing tighter. You don’t want to leave. You don’t want to go speak with your mother.

“ 私はできたが、私はしたくない。”

You don’t even bother taking the time to translate that. You don’t care what she has to say.

With a deep sigh Damara finally twirls her tongue into a language you can fully comprehend.

“ If you make her wait, it’s not gonna be fun for you. So just get your ass in there and get it over with.”

Her English is almost flawless, though if you listen carefully you can hear a slight accent.

You sit for a few more seconds before Damara walks up and literally pushes you off the swing.

You don’t flinch when you hit the ground. It’s almost as if you've become numb.

You give her one last blank stare before trekking into the house. 

It’s small, and cramped. There’s trash everywhere, ranging from old newspapers to broken glass bottles. You don’t care though. Not anymore. There was a time when you tried to clean, and make everything look nice.

Maneuvering around all the debris you find your way to your mothers room. Pushing the slightly ajar door open and step in.

The walls have holes in the plaster, and the paint has become dingy.

There sits your mother, in front of her large mirror and makeup table in a comfy looking chair. Her robe is falling off her shoulders to show her flat chest. She takes a puff off her cigarette.  
She smiles gently and stands up. There’s a pool of dread filling up your stomach, but you keep your face perfectly still.

She grabs you by the collar of your shirt, stretching it out. She pushes her nose against yours and smiles at you.

Her breath smells gross, like stale cigarettes and that stuff. Her teeth are yellow and she’s getting wrinkles.

You heard from Damara awhile back that her price has gone down, nobody wants her anymore.

You don’t blame them.

“Do you know how long I've been calling you, girl?”

“No.”

Your voice is dead, and it pisses her off. She slams you into the wall, you know there’s a new hole there, and that there’s plaster falling into your hair.

You barely feel it. Well, you do feel it it’s just distant.

“You come when I call for you, girl!”

She yells and allows your body to slump to the floor. Smiling to herself about your lack of fighting back.

She drops to her knees and cups your face gently, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes, the color of mud, were dull and bloodshot. 

“Tell me, how old are you now, child?”

Her voice was like sugary acid.  
“I’m thirteen.”

She smiles at that and runs her thumb along your jawline.

“Oh, how wonderful you’re really growing up. In fact I believe you’re about old enough to start working.”

She clicks her tongue and you keep your blank face. She goes on to explain that in two weeks you will tag along with Damara, watch what she does and learn. Then you will work, just like they do.

Your chest feels tight and you want to scream. But you can’t. You can’t find your voice, or your thoughts, it’s as if you can’t find yourself.

You are dismissed, and slump back to the backyard, kicking the glass bottles shattering them even further, and obtaining a few cuts on your foot and ankle. It doesn't matter though. You are really hoping it gets infected. Maybe then you’ll die.

When you find your way outside you see a shadowed figure on the other side of the short, broken chain link fence.

There’s a flash of emotion through your brain and you let out a weak smile, rushing over there. As you get closer you can make out the shadow to be exactly who you thought.

“Karkat!”

You whisper yell, making sure to keep your voice low. His head pops up and you can see the forming bruise on his cheek and the busted lip. His messy dark hair has pieces of plaster in it as well. You both knew very well that the teachers wouldn’t say shit, they hated him and thought he was a problem student. They’d just chalk it up to him getting into a fight he deserved.

“Hey Aradia.”

His voice is a lot softer than when he’s at school, his dad has probably gone to bed and he doesn't want to face the consequences of waking him up.

You climb over the small fence to his yard, which was just as small and dead as yours, and give him a big hug.  
He hisses with a small wince, you assume he got kicked in the rib cage, again.

With a frown and an apology you gently grab his hand and the two of you walk towards the shadows.

You break down crying, and as he holds you you can feel tears his slight shudders. He always cried silently. Everyone saw him as loud and obnoxious, but he was quiet about so many things.


End file.
